[2023-03-05] Three words
Today, on a walk at Bruce Pit, I ran into an old colleague from Natural Resources Canada. It was one of those chance encounters when you pass so closely to someone that you can really look into their face. I recognized him in an instant. He hadn't aged much, and when he spoke, his voice hadn't changed at all.
We started chatting. I asked how he was doing, cognizant of the cane he was using. He told me that he had recently had a knee replacement. I asked about his dog, a beautiful five-year-old Golden Retriever. He told me that his previous dog had passed away and that Joey had become available. When Joey came to him, the young dog weighed 90 pounds—a lot for this medium-sized pup. Within six months, Joey was down to a healthy 65 pounds, largely by virtue of a more appropriate diet, and no doubt regular walks at Bruce Pit.
As I was keeping my family waiting, I said my goodbyes. However, I wish that I had taken the time to tell my old colleague this story. Back in 2004, I left my job as a director in NRCan's Energy Sector to move to the department's Shared Services Office. I had been responsible for internal services for the Energy Sector, but since those functions were transitioning to the Shared Services Office, I figured that I should follow the work. A few months into my new job, I attended a meeting in the Energy Sector and sat beside my old friend. He wrote in my notebook these three words: "Please come home." It almost made me cry. (I still get a little choked up every time I recount the story.) I had really loved my job in the Energy Sector and the people I had worked with. My colleague's simple message was such a sweet way for him to say, "I miss you. I liked working with you. You belong here."
No matter where we go in life—school, work, volunteer teams, community groups, our own families—it is so comforting to feel we belong, to know we are valued, to believe we are accepted exactly as we are. Sometimes we are the recipients of such messages, as I was in 2004. Other times, we are the purveyors of such ideas, letting others know they are a valued member of a group.
Though it's been almost 20 years since my colleague wrote those three words to me, I have never forgotten them. Chances are they long ago slipped from his memory. That is often the case. We say a kind word to someone without realizing how significant those words are to them. We forget them, but they write them in their heart.
